Full Credits

Stats & Data

May 13, 2015

America wants to replace Andrew Jackson with a woman as the new face of the $20 bill, and the Unsinkable Molly Brown thinks you're an idiot if you don't pick her.

I hear folks are fed up with that racist tyrant Andrew Jackson’s face stamped on all the sawbucks. A lot of you want to replace that Trailblazer of Tears with an American Woman — the best one of all time. Well, that’s me, no question, and y’all are goddam dingle bats if you fuck this up.

I’m the Unsinkable Molly Brown, for chrissake. I saved everyone on the Titanic when that big ship sank, and then I swam back to America with three orphans on my back. And by then I was already a rich old lady and a national gem.

I got my start in the wilderness, where I made my living hunting moose and entertaining prospectors, by strapping on an oak dildo and fucking bears for gold dust. I brushed my teeth with porcupine quills and used rabbits for tampons. Sometime in those years I also coined the phrase, “hummingbirds are nature’s vibrators.“

After I raised enough money for a pick axe and colander, I enslaved those fuckbears and made ‘em help me dig for nuggets. I struck a vein and got richer than double fudge cake dipped in buttercream.

Soon I had the poor swimming in soup and pillowed in bread. After I had America by the balls, I took a sojourn to Europe where I climbed the Eiffel Tower like a ladder and learned to stick my pinky out all fancy.

Then the Titanic happened. A few years later, I tracked down the iceberg that killed the ship, and I beat it to a warm slush with a red-tipped poker.

My mind’s a hedge maze full of secrets and my body’s a scientific wonder. I don’t need a bra — my breasts have always supported themselves. They remain perky and large enough to smother a high-ranking Nazi to death. My thighs could crack walnuts, and, once, the skull of a squirrel who wanted the walnut. My womb can spit out a healthy 10-pound babe in four months time, and using just my tongue I can tie a cherry stem into a noose.

I never swore until God realized there were greater sins to worry about. I’m a peaceful woman, but I’ve given great white sharks black eyes and black mambas white-eyes, which is much, much worse. I finish all the food on my plate, every time, bones included.

I’m not saying I’m perfect. I enslaved bears, eat veal five times a day, and was a fan of France. I occasionally exaggerate the truth, and I’ve told many a youngster that I killed Santa Claus. I might have been racist, too; I don’t remember and I’m not going to look it up.

But that don’t change the fact that I’m the greatest woman in American history. If you don’t put me on that $20 bill, y’all are as dense as that oak dildo and silly as a fuckbear on stilts. Get to it.